A Gentleman By Any Other Name (17 page)

“And Morgan?”

“Who knows about Morgan and anything. To be truthful, I think she's practicing on him. Her feminine wiles, that is.”

“Poor fellow,” Chance said, watching as the lieutenant dismounted. “Are you sure Morgan is all he's interested in at Becket Hall?”

“We don't know. But now that you're here, with those impressive letters with all their official seals, I should imagine any doubts he may harbor about us will be settled. You're really coming in handy, brother, so very glad you could come.”

Chance grinned. “Anything I can do to help the family. We sail together or sink alone. Shall I be pompous and important, do you think? Have the man wetting his pants?”

“I might enjoy watching that, yes, as long as he does it outside.” Court swept an arm in front of his brother as if inviting him to pass ahead of him. “Shall we?”

J
ULIA HAD MADE THE
mistake of entering Becket Hall via one of the pairs of French doors leading directly into the main salon. Now instead of hiding in her bedchamber, she sat beside Eleanor Becket and did her best to smile and nod at the right places while Eleanor told her about Becket Hall.

The house had been purchased, not built, which surprised Julia, Ainsley Becket having seen the immense mansion from his ship as they'd sailed toward their planned destination of Dover.

“Papa and Jacko immediately rowed in to shore, and very shortly after that we were all here. It seemed that the family who owned the house had only recently inherited it and much preferred town life but despaired of ever selling the estate. I don't know why. I love it here. So peaceful, so quiet. Not at first, of course, as everyone had to be housed here for some time.”

What a preposterous humbug! Julia looked at Eleanor, wondering if the woman was truly naive or even more clever than anyone supposed. Eleanor was so very delicate, so reserved…so much not like the rest of the Beckets.

“Have you ever been to London?” Julia asked her.

Eleanor's smile was a marvel, making her even more beautiful. “No, I don't care to travel. Papa and I are very content.”

“But not the others?”

“Courtland. And Cassandra is still very young. I think Morgan would like to see London, although she has absolutely no interest in becoming a part of society. Spencer is mad to have Papa buy him a commission in the Army, and I worry that Rian feels the same. It's a subject we don't dwell on in order not to upset Papa.”

No, Julia thought, no one ever seems to want to upset Papa. “Leaving Chance and Fanny, I believe?”

“Yes, of course. Chance made his feelings plain years ago, but I really can't say what Fanny thinks. She is only sixteen, which is old enough to put up her hair, which she flatly refuses to do, as I believe I've already told you.” Eleanor smiled. “What I didn't tell you is that I'm surprised she hasn't simply cut it all off. Court says she's an Irish demon, but he only says that in jest. I think.”

Eleanor smiled toward the doorway. “There you are, Morgan. Julia and I were just chatting. Tell us, do you want to go to London or simply molder away here, as Spencer says?”

Morgan crossed over to a nearby couch, her strides carelessly long, her legs seeming to swing straight from the hips. Did the girl know the shape of her legs was outlined by the constraints of her skirt with each step she took? And it wasn't that her sprigged muslin gown was cut daringly low, it was that Morgan was simply one of those women who had been generously…endowed.

“London?” Morgan said, crossing her legs, and her slim ankles were exposed. “Is Chance leaving already? Are you planning to go back with him, Elly? I still say if Papa wants you to have a season on the marriage market, you should take the plunge.”

“Morgan, please,” Eleanor said, lowering her head once more.

Such a long, delicate neck, Julia thought. Eleanor Becket would cause quite a stir in London…if not for that limp. Julia didn't know very much about London society, but she was fairly certain its members could be cruel.
Papa
might harbor the same concerns.

“I'm sorry, Elly,” Morgan said, reaching over to lightly touch her sister's neatly clasped hands. “I'm always saying something stupid, aren't I? I didn't mean to—oh ho, look who's here. Lieutenant Diamond. Do you want to watch while I make him stammer?”

Eleanor kept her voice down as Chance, Courtland and a tall, fair man dressed in the uniform of the dragoons entered the large room, still speaking to each other. “Morgan, you tease that poor man half out of his mind. Now uncross your legs and sit up straight, please. Lieutenant Diamond's truly smitten.”

“And that's somehow my fault?” Morgan asked, grinning at Julia. “Besides, a little wool over the man's eyes is good for all of us. Don't you think so, Julia?”

“I suppose, Morgan, although I don't quite understand what you mean,” Julia said, feigning innocence even as she feared her ploy wasn't working. “As long as you remember that a discarded suitor can turn quite mean.”

Morgan frowned, looked at Lieutenant Diamond's back, looked at Julia again. “I hadn't thought of that.”

“You rarely think through anything you say, Morgan,” Eleanor said, sighing. “But you began this flirtation and now you're simply going to have to continue being flattered by Lieutenant Diamond's attention until either he or you leaves the area. That's only fair to the gentleman.”

Julia watched as the lieutenant broke himself away from Courtland even as Chance left the room—heading for the stairs, she supposed—and walked over to bow to the ladies. She'd been right. Eleanor Becket knew quite a lot and only pretended she knew nothing. And obviously although Chance and Morgan seemed to trust Julia, Eleanor was still reserving judgment to some point. A complex young woman, this fragile flower.

Morgan held up her hand and the lieutenant bent over it, holding on to the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist. “Lieutenant, how good to see you again. Gracious, it's been an
age.
”

“Only a week, Miss Morgan. Although it seems a month. I've been occupied with my duties, I fear,” the lieutenant answered, then turned to Eleanor. “Miss Becket,” he said and bowed to her as Eleanor regally dipped her head.

“Lieutenant. Please allow me to present to you Miss Julia Carruthers, my brother Chance's fiancée, although he's yet to make a formal announcement.”

The lieutenant all but snapped to attention, his expression respectful, then bowed to Julia. “Miss Carruthers, my honor. And my felicitations.”

Julia knew there was no way to correct Eleanor without making a total spectacle of herself. “Thank you, Lieutenant. But I do believe you're wanted across the room.”

With one last look at Morgan, who smiled up at him from beneath her long black lashes, he was off and within moments was reading some papers Chance had handed him.

His orders. They had to be Chance's orders. And the lieutenant seemed suitably impressed, reading them quickly, then handing them back to Chance, bowing to him.

What a charade. And what brilliance. The lieutenant would be so happy to tell Chance anything he wanted to know…and Chance would share all of that information with the rest of the Beckets. With the Black Ghost.

Julia had to stifle a giggle, which meant she was a terrible person, indeed, and quite thoroughly corrupted. Chance certainly had played his cards successfully, as one trip to her bed and she had become a willing participant in the entire smuggling scheme. Shame on her.

She coughed into her fist to hide yet another giggle when Chance smiled at her, his eyes all but dancing, as if they shared a great secret.

“Oh, look at Chance, Elly,” Morgan said, having turned sideways on the couch to watch the men. “He's positively delirious with love, isn't he?”

“Morgan, you're not supposed to notice such things,” Eleanor told her quietly.

“Oh, pooh,” Morgan said, turning around to look at Julia. “Anyone with two eyes can see he's top over heels in love with her. Isn't he, Julia?”

Julia felt heat rising into her cheeks and wildly searched her brain for some other subject to talk about, one not so embarrassingly personal. “I…um…”

“Ladies?” Chance said, having walked across the room without Julia noticing. “We beg your pardon for deserting you, but we have much to discuss with Lieutenant Diamond and don't wish to bore you ladies with such matters. Darling,” he ended, bending to kiss Julia's cheek. “I'll come to you as soon as I'm free, and we can further discuss the nuptials. I'll be counting the moments.”

Julia wasn't in danger of giggling anymore, and her cheeks were certainly not flushed but had probably gone chalk-white. How dare he kiss her, say such things in front of his sisters, as if he was making an appointment to come to her bed? Why, weren't things already complicated enough without—

“Nuptials, is it? This soon?” Morgan said, sitting back and folding her arms beneath her breasts. “And him still in half mourning. Well, that's settled then, isn't it? You and Chance will be staying at Becket Hall for six more months before heading back to London. After all, Chance wouldn't want to cause a scandal.”

“I don't think Chance cares a great deal about what society might think,” Eleanor said consideringly, placing a hand on Julia's arm. “Julia? Is this what you want?”

Julia stood up, grateful her legs seemed able to hold her erect. “I…I suppose—”

“Wonderful!” Morgan said, cutting her off as she jumped up and wrapped her arms around her. She kissed Julia's cheek, then whispered in her ear, “Chance is brilliant, isn't he?
Now
Jacko will have to be satisfied.”

Julia stood stiffly when Morgan stepped back, then somehow dredged up a smile. “If you'll both excuse me? I…I didn't sleep well last night and really believe I'd like to lie down for a while.”

Morgan snorted—yes,
snorted
—and Julia suddenly wondered how many people knew that she and Chance…that she and Chance had…oh, blast!

“Excuse me,” she said again and quickly left the room. She needed time alone to think up at least a half dozen horribly painful ways to torture Chance Becket.

Her mind filled with the glories of hot pitch and feathers, Julia was halfway into her bedchamber before she realized she was not alone.

“I beg your pardon. But who are you and why are you in my chamber?” she asked, already fairly certain of the answer to the first part of the question.

The tall ebony-skinned woman put down Julia's hairbrush and smiled in a broad white-toothed grin. “I'm Odette, of course, and I go where I wish to go. Today I wish to see you, so I am here.” She shrugged. “Simple, yes?”

“Actually, I suppose so,” Julia said, taking a seat beside the fireplace and motioning for the woman to sit down in the matching green chair. If she just thought of the accepted rules of every possible polite convention, then turned them on their heads, she would have gone a long way toward understanding Becket Hall and its inhabitants. “Callie mentioned you. She's very much in awe. You're some sort of priestess, I believe? From Haiti?”

Odette sat down, smoothing the skirts of her black gown over her knees, and her pride was evident in her ramrod-straight posture. “I come from Dahomey, my family stolen from our home to be carried across the sea and sold like cattle in the marketplace. Saint-Domingue, Haiti, the name makes no never mind. For me, I have learned my home is where I am.”

Julia was amazed. And saddened. To read about such happenings was one thing, to see this woman, this proud woman, was quite another. “I'm so sorry.”

Odette cackled, her dark eyes twinkling. “For what, girl? You had nothing to do with my life. I am happy here. Are you happy here?”

The abruptness of the question startled Julia. “Why, yes. Yes, I am. The Beckets are lovely people and I—”

“You belong to Chance now, and he to you.” She stood up, reached into the pocket of her gown and extracted what Julia now knew to be a
gad,
the tooth thankfully small but still more than a little ugly. Odette lowered the thin circle of leather over Julia's head, the tooth falling at the end of the strip to hang down between her breasts.

Julia felt a shiver run up her spine, but she was certain that was her own superstition, not any power in the
gad.
“Why, thank you. It's…it's lovely, really. I'm truly honored. Has Chance renewed the magic in his?”

“It is done. The boy would not disobey me. We settled that a long time ago, when he first came to the island and he put up a fuss about going into the bath I'd got ready for him.” Odette grinned again and actually winked at her. “There's nothing I don't know about that boy.”

Julia could feel color rushing into her cheeks even as she grinned. “You dumped him into the tub? How old was he?”

“Nine, or so we all decided. Too old for a young black woman to be sitting on him, stripping off his filthy britches and giving his bare backside a good whacking. Not that I could do that now, with him thinking himself a man grown. All you need with Chance is to let that boy know you won't swallow any foolishness from him, that's all.”

Was that what this visit was all about? Odette was giving her instructions on how to handle Chance Becket? Did the woman think she needed lessons? Of course she did. Julia thought so, too. But she did take issue with the notion Chance was just a boy being foolish. “Is that what you call his stubborn pursuit of what he thinks is best no matter what anyone else might think?
Foolishness?
”

“Anything a man does that a woman does not like is foolishness in one way or another,” Odette said, patting Julia's shoulder. “You stand up to him and only bend when you want to bend. Marry strength with strength, and together you will be invincible. All the shadows of his past will disappear and you will both walk in the sun.”